Azraa sat at the far table, notes spread neatly in rows, highlighters lined up like soldiers. She was halfway through outlining their thesis when Xavier dropped into the seat from her.
"Your fifteen minutes behind schedule." She said without looking up.
"Good evening to you too," he replied, unbothered. He leaned back, stretching. Azraa hated the way soft lamplight traced the line of his jaw. "I brought pizza, peace offering."
Her head jerked up, sure enough he put the pizza box on the table. The aroma immediately filling the air.
"You think you can bribe me with pizza?"
He grinned. "Depends, is it working?"
She glared, though her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. His grin widened. Annoyed, she opened the box and took a piece, refusing to admit how good it was.
They worked in silence for a while, the scratching of pens the only sound between them. But Azraa was too aware of him—his steady breathing, the way his hair fell slightly into his eyes, the faint scent of his cologne.
"Your handwriting is too neat," he said suddenly breaking the silence.
She frowned. "That's a complaint?"
" It's distracting." His eyes flickered to hers, unreadable, before returning to his notes.
For a moment, Azraa forgot how to breathe. Distracting. Was that his way of—no. No, she wasn't going to fall for whatever game he was playing.
She forced her focus back in Aristotle, but when his knees brushed hers under the table—accidentally, surely—her pulse leapt in a way that had nothing to do with philosophy.
"Careful," she muttered. "Stay on your own side."
Xavier smirked without looking up. " What if I don't want to."
The room was too quiet, the air too thick. She pushed her chair back, standing abruptly. "I need coffee."
As she walked away, her heart raced with a truth she refused to admit, this wasn't just rivalry anymore. Something else was brewing in the silence between them. Something dangerous.
"An Expresso please," she said smiling at the barista.
"Anna?" Steven asked surprised. "I thought that was you, I haven't seen you in forever."
She smiled sweetly at him." Yeah, I've been busy with our project."
He grinned. "How's that working out for you?"
"Not the best," she replied swiftly." But I'll get through it."
"Your order's ready ma'am." The barista announced.
"Well, I've got to get back to my patner." She said sarcastically.
"Hey," he faltered, looking nervous. "If you aren't doing anything tomorrow night, some friends and I, would going to a house party. I'd love for you to come, if you're down for it though."
She hadn't been to a party in a while, she was so caught up in her academics, she forgot she was just twenty-one, she needed to have some fun. Every inch of her told her to stay and focus on the project but then again she'd have to deal with growing feelings for Xavier, she needed a break.
"Sure," she beamed. I'd be down. Text me the address."
By the time she got back the library, Xavier had grown an impatient look on his face.
"Well, what took you so long?" He demanded affirmatively.
"I got coffee," she replied nonchalantly.
"You do realize, we've got less than a week to finish this paper."
"Wow, thanks for stating the obvious." She retorted, taking a sip of her coffee.
They went back to working in silence, either one not daring to look at the other.
The library was lit with only the glow of their laptops and soft lamplight. Night had come and was almost approaching midnight, but neither of them had left.
Azraa rubbed her temples. "You're impossible."
"Efficient," he corrected. "There's a difference."
She shot him a look but he didn't flinch. Instead he leaned closer, pointing at her notes. Their shoulders brushed, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine."
"Your argument about substance," he said. " It's good. But you are missing this." He scribbled in the margin, his handwriting sharp and precise.
She wanted to snap at him, to tear the page away—but when she read his point, her stomach sank. He was right.
"Fine," she muttered
His smirk softened into something warmer. "You're welcome."
"So I won't be able to make it tonight." She said twirling her pen between her fingers.
"And why is that?" He asked not looking up.
"I'm going to a party."
He looked up with surprise plastered on his face. " And who was able to break you out of your shell?" He asked, leaning back into his chair, almost laughing.
"It's none of your business," she retorted." "I'm just letting you know, not to bother with tomorrow."
" Okay then." With that they packed their notes into their bags and headed to their hostels.